Kidnapped for Christmas
by KricketWilliams
Summary: This year, for Christmastime, I decided to do two stories...A naughty and a nice one... Let me know what you think! This is the "naughty" one...Fed up after watching Penelope at the Holiday party, Derek Morgan takes matters-and her-into his hands. I don't own a thing.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This year for Christmas, I entered the Smut Challenge on Facebook. I decided to do a naughty and nice story. This is a tamed down version of the naughty story (Don't worry...I promise it's still hot!)...If you want it in the full glory, it's posted on TWCS...but I wanted to share them with you all here, too!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Derek Morgan sat at the bar and watched his best friend attempting to flirt with her idiot of a ex-boyfriend. Lynch was too busy chatting up the other techs in the area, probably about which motherboard was better, to notice he was standing near the sexiest girl in the room...and that he'd once had her as his.

Penelope had gone all out this year. She was wearing a little red velvet dress with white faux fur on the wrists and collar, a tight, black leather belt, a jaunty little Santa hat perched on her pretty blonde hair, and white tights on her legs.

It killed him that Lynch hardly took a look at her legs. Derek was really, really stuck on those tights. He'd wondered for most of the night if they were thigh high, held up by garters, with nothing but bare inner thighs and silky panties. Or maybe they were full pantyhose style, where he'd have to peer closely to see the shading of the dark curling hair on her pussy...

Was the man blind? She was so gorgeous, laughing, tossing her tousled curls back, making the jingling jingle bells on her ears tinkle. Her glossy red lips matched her red glasses, and she smiled, flashing bright teeth at JJ, who was suitably dressed in a black velvet dress. She looked very Christmasy, too, but Pen stole the show.

God, that moron still hadn't turned! She was near the mistletoe and punch, for fuck's sake, the perfect spot for kissing. He knew that because she'd told him a month ago while they were at the store, looking at the black boots that she was now wearing. They'd already picked the rich burgundy sweater he was wearing tonight. It was classically styled, nothing too ostentatious. Penelope had good taste; he trusted her—he just didn't always agree with her decisions about relationships.

"_I'm going to try to seduce Kevin at the Christmas party," she said._

"_Really?" he asked. "What's up between you two?"_

_She grumbled and sorted through piles of boots. "I thought I'd try again...rekindle the spark between us and become a couple again."_

"_What spark?" he asked. There had never been much passion between Penelope and Lynch as far as he could tell._

_She paused in her sorting, but she couldn't meet his eyes. "There was a spark..."_

_"Sparks don't just go away, sweetheart."_

_She pouted. "Sometimes they do—"_

"_Not if you're with the right person," he'd countered._

_He knew that was true. His family was filled with people that had such sparks, real true flames between one another, that their relationships lasted decades, and in some cases—like his mother—even after death. It was one of the reasons he'd never married, because he wanted that spark...and he only had it with one person—who just didn't see him that way._

"_You just don't like Kevin," she added in a patronizing tone. "You don't like each other."_

_That wasn't true. He didn't dislike Lynch; he hated him. He wasn't worth Penelope. He'd come to JJ's wedding with another woman, he'd rebuked her publicly, and she still chased. Penelope was not a pathetic sort, yet in this case..._

_It frustrated the hell out of him._

"_Baby, why don't you see that you're worth more, worth better than him?"_

_She frowned. "That's not true. I still love Kevin. And I think Kevin still loves me." She graced him with a teasing smile. "Besides, not every girl can have a Derek Morgan."_

"_This girl can," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Just say the word."_

_She laughed, her tinkling, teasing laugh. "You're crazy. Always kidding—Oh! A scarf! JJ needs that scarf!"_

She'd yanked herself out of his arms, and he'd let her go. He thought she deserved better, but he didn't know if he was it. He was a scarred man with a lot of baggage. He'd started thinking that maybe she was happy with Lynch and that maybe that was the truth—that Kevin still loved her...

Looking at her tonight, he knew that wasn't the truth. Seeing her miserable, heartbroken, beautiful face...he needed to make a move.

His move.

He needed to force her to listen, to make her take him seriously.

And he was going to do it tonight.

* * *

"Morgan is staring at you again, like he wants to consume you," JJ said through smiling teeth. She was trying to pretend like she didn't notice things going on.

"He is, isn't he?" Pen said, glancing excitedly at JJ.

"He's not hiding it very well." JJ took a sip of her drink. "He looks like he wants to throttle Kevin."

"_I _want to throttle Kevin," Pen mused. She'd decided to try with Kevin out of stupid desperation, but they were full and truly done. After tonight, there was no more wish of them returning as a pair.

"You should've gone out with him," JJ remarked, casting a glance at Derek again.

"He was dating Aimee Mallard," she replied with a huff. "I thought they were a serious item."

"You should've talked to me, too," JJ remarked again. "No one knows as much about someone's love life—or glaring lack of one—as their partner. Morgan never wanted that girl. She was a distraction, that's all."

Pen turned and looked at her, her mouth gaping. "Are you serious?"

She nodded. "He never talked about her."

"Why?"

JJ raised both brows at Penelope, like she was obtuse. "He was too busy talking about _you_."

Overwhelmed with this new, surprising information, Penelope knew she need a break.

"I'm going outside," she whispered. "Fresh air."

"Okay."

* * *

Working her way through the crowds, Penelope made her way out to the front entry way. There were a bunch of people smoking cigarettes, shivering in the cold. She held her breath and walked past them to a quiet spot by the corner. She then took a deep breath and sighed.

"He doesn't love you."

Penelope turned to see her best friend standing there. "Derek. What did you—"

"He doesn't love you, and I am tired of seeing you fight to keep something alive that is unworthy of you." He took a step closer, reached for her hand, and then started walking, dragging her along.

"Derek, what—" she tried to ask, stumbling after him.

"It's beneath you," he grumbled, continuing to walk in ground-eating strides. "You deserve so much better, it's almost pathetic how low he is in comparison to you."

She noticed they were past the parking lot to where his SUV was. She began to panic a little and asked with a confused voice, "Morgan, where are we—"

"Get in."

It was a command, not a suggestion. She never took well to commands. "Listen here, Hot Stu-Ooh!"

He didn't allow her to get a question in. He picked her up and put her in the truck.

"Derek!" she cried out in outrage. "Let me go!"

"Oh, hell, no," he said, shaking his head. He was trying to fasten her seat belt, but she kept hitting the button.

"I will scream." She didn't plan on that, though. It was an empty threat. She knew that no matter what was going on in that gorgeous bald head of his, he would never hurt her.

"No, you won't," he replied coolly. He took her hands in his and managed the belt, but then she pulled loose again.

"I will! I will scream! I—"

He sighed. "I was afraid it would come to this."

A moment later, he slapped handcuffs on her wrist and attached them to the seat belt buckle.

He climbed in his side while she sat still for a minute, anger and outrage boiling through her.

She turned her head to look at him. "What the hell is going on, Derek Morgan?"

He started up the truck. "You'll find out."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Are you _kidnapping_ me?"

Without any other preamble, he simply answered, "Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thanks so much for the reviews... These two need to get on the same page, pronto...

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**Chapter 2**

"Of all the Neanderthal, stupid things!" Penelope snapped. "Stop this car, and let me out."

"No," he answered, heading up on the entrance ramp to I-95.

She growled deep in her throat in frustration. "This is stupid. _You _are stupid. Stop the truck."

The look he shot her immediately made her silent. "Don't fuck with me, Penelope. I am not in the mood."

"Fuck with you?" she hissed in outrage, feeling kind of strange using that word. She wasn't one for swearing, but sometimes, the situation called for it. Like if one was kidnapped and handcuffed in an SUV. That situation called for swearing.

"Yeah," he said, gripping the steering wheel as he drove.

"Ha," she muttered under her breath, but loudly enough that he could hear. "You wish."

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch in the faintest hint of a smile. "That I do."

The primitive, sexy look on his face did something strange to her, and in spite of herself, in spite of the fact that she was handcuffed in the front of his damned truck, she felt a wash of wetness between her legs. It was...disconcerting. She'd never been one that liked the caveman approach before.

Well, to be honest with herself, she really didn't know if she liked the caveman approach. She'd never had it before. The kind of guys she'd dated—fellow tech geeks like herself—were not the sort that tossed a girl over their shoulder and ran off into the woods with them to have their wicked way with her and do as they pleased.

Penelope shifted in her seat, hoping the second round of wetness she was feeling didn't seep through.

He arched a brow at her. "Comfortable?"

She scowled at him. "No! I was handcuffed in an SUV by an idiot!"

He didn't even bother to answer.

"Well, you are!" she snapped.

"Not an idiot," he replied after a moment. "Just a man on a mission."

"A mission to ruin your credit rating for life!" she snarled, and then added, "Or a death mission!"

He chuckled.

"Ooh!" she cried, wishing she could toss something at his head. Instead, she was sitting, stewing, when they passed the exit for Derek's house. That made her stop struggling at her bonds and look at him. She'd thought for sure they were headed to his place.

"Where are we headed?" she demanded.

"My cabin," he answered flatly. "Near Rossi's."

She was thunderstruck. "Your cabin? I didn't know you _had_ a cabin."

That corner of his mouth twitched again. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me, sweetheart." He looked over at her and shot her a heated look. "I think it's about time you found out."

She felt her heart skip a beat. _Oh, sweet circuits...was he...? He couldn't be...could he?_

Her heart, performing its usual evasive maneuver when it was dealing with Derek, helped her brain think of something else quickly. Suddenly, she thought about poor JJ, her ride to the party, waiting for her and wondering where she was at. "Oh, God! JJ has to be—"

"Before I followed you, I told Hotch, JJ, Rossi, Blake, and Reid that I was stealing you away."

She snorted. "I am sure you didn't tell them you meant it literally."

"Actually—" he turned his head to look at her, pinning her with piercing dark eyes "—I did."

She could feel the heat rising up her neck to her face and that insidious heat pooling between her legs.

He'd obviously planned this out, and now she was more curious about her fate than ever.

"You told them you were taking me." It was a statement, not a question.

He nodded and kept his eyes on the road.

"Derek...what is going on?" she questioned after a few more miles riding in silence.

"It's time."

Her brows went down in a harsh slash. "What's time?"

"Time to show you where you belong," he answered.

"Belong?" she squeaked, more confused than ever. "What do you mean...belong? What are you talking about?"

"And who you belong to."

* * *

Derek could see the steam coming out of Penelope's ears. He almost smiled but bit it back. Good. He was fine that she was a little irritated with the whole thing. The whole four years she was with Kevin Lynch had irritated the fuck out of him, too.

He finally told her what he'd been thinking in no uncertain terms. Soon, she was going to see a lot of other things. Mainly, the two of them and how they could be—_should_ be—as a couple. He was tired of teasing, tired of pretending he didn't want more. He was tired of sitting back and not being the man he was supposed to be with her all along—her man.

This Christmas, watching her with that nincompoop Lynch, he knew straight up: he'd been wrong to sit back. He should've stepped up to the plate. Should've claimed her and made her his months ago...no, years ago. Instead, he'd let what her decide what she thought she wanted. Playing at a relationship. Playing it safe with that asshole she never intended on marrying. Keeping her life the same status quo so she didn't have to fear losing someone important again—or unimportant. Watching her with Kevin, it was obvious—she didn't have a clue what was good for her. Not when it came to love.

Real love meant calling each other first when you were hurt, being each other's support and caring, standing firm against the world with one another if needed to be. Real love was worrying about each other in times of trial, kissing away tears, and laughing and cheering with each other for triumphs. Real love was being giddy together and shining so bright, others took note.

Real love, honest-to-goodness love like his folks had had, was what they'd had for eight years running now.

Derek needed to prove that. He had always had a dominant side, one that lay dormant with most of his girlfriends. It took the right woman, one that he wanted to claim, one that he felt was his, to really bring out the feelings he was having now. Penelope had always been that woman for him.

He'd wondered how she would feel, what she would do, if she knew about his darker fantasies. He'd had so many about her in the past, ones he'd acted out with far less deserving women because he'd held back with her. He wanted to be her best friend, but he wanted to be her lover, too.

No. That was too mild for how he really felt. There was something about Penelope Garcia from day one that told him she was the other part of his soul. The missing piece he needed to be whole. He loved her, he desired her, he needed her.

But it was more than that. He wanted her to see and experience every part of him. He wanted to make love to her, he wanted to get down and dirty with her...he wanted to _fuck_ her. There was no middle ground, there was no simple niceties. It was him, bare and raw, offering himself up to her like the goddess she was. She wasn't meant to beg or plead for love—that should be a given for someone who gave like her.

He watched out of the corner of his eye how she shifted in her seat, crossing her legs—those legs, long and curvy, with well-turned calves and plump thighs—and he had to adjust in his seat. Where Penelope saw gushy excess, Derek saw luscious curves, breasts, and hips, places where he could bury his face, his tongue, his cock. He saw softness to comfort him, valleys to caress, delicious ripeness that screamed woman. He knew she felt more in a negative way about herself; she'd been vocal when they'd shopped together.

"Doesn't Lynch let you know how perfect you are, peaches?" he'd asked, reassuring her when she'd groaned over her size tag.

"You're sweet," she'd said, rifling through a rack for something a bit less fitted. "But Kevin is honest with me. He knows I have to lose about fifteen, too."

It had irritated him to no end that day. That fool Lynch didn't see what he had in her then, and he didn't see what she was now. He didn't see what he had in her _ever_.

Derek did. He always had, and he always would.

Turning off the highway onto the winding road that led to the lake cabin, he was even more assured he was doing the right thing.

He'd given her his heart a million years ago, he'd been her champion more times than he could count, and she was his best friend and soul mate. Now, it was time to be her lover. Now, it was up to him to make her see exactly why they were so right for one another...even if he had to keep her handcuffed to the bed the whole weekend.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks so much for the reviews..Moving right along...

* * *

**Chapter 3**

As they went down a rather long and deserted road—like something they'd seen numerous times on the hunt for an Unsub—Penelope's mind raced and thought all sorts of things. The fact that "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch" was now playing on the radio didn't help matters. There was something different about Derek...something kind of dark and dangerous that she wasn't used to. It surprised her, made her wary. She wondered what his plan was.

No. That was a lie. She was pretty sure of what his plan was.

He was right about so much. She didn't run to Kevin when she was hurting. She didn't want his support, his caring, his strength to help her through her problems. She relied on Derek instead. Theirs was an emotionally inappropriate relationship. Everyone knew it. JJ, Hotch, Rossi...even Reid, who was not the most observant when it came to romance, had commented on them in the past.

She wondered what they'd said when he'd told them he planned on absconding with her. They'd probably cheered and said that it was about time. She'd been mooney over him for a long time; they all knew that he was more important to her than Kevin ever would be. He was more important than any of her brothers and all of her other friends combined. He was the most important person in her life...and she really, really loved him.

And the kicker? The punchline to this joke? She knew he loved her, too.

Why he loved her so much, she didn't know. Derek was perfection in a man. A sculpted statue come to life. A gift from God. There wasn't anything that hung and jiggled on him that wasn't supposed to be hanging and jiggling a bit. She'd also seen the women that Derek had bedded in the past. They were in the single digits for body fat percentile, too.

Looking at his perfect profile, his chiseled good looks, she felt a pang of worry hit her again. And that was just the outside! On the inside, he was even better. True, loyal, honest, a real live hero. God! If only he had a blemish, a bump on his nose, bucked teeth, a laugh like a hyhena...something that made him less perfect. Then maybe...maybe someone like her would be more suitable. There was a part of her that was frightened. Not by anything Derek would do; she knew more than anything that he would never hurt her. What she was frightened about came from herself.

Penelope had battled insecurities about herself her entire life. Her parents dying had solidified that. She'd started with a goth facade when she was a teenager and then decided she really missed colors by the time she was twenty-one. She knew she wasn't perfect, but like she'd told Derek years ago, she was okay with it. She did all right. She stuck with her own league, and it was all good.

She hadn't drunk that much spiked eggnog at the party to think differently.

He put the truck into park in front of a cute little brown log cabin. At least, it looked brown in the headlights—it was pitch black back there in the woods.

He undid his seat belt, then hers, and hopped out of the truck to her side.

"Come on," he said, right after he opened the door.

They walked into the little cabin, and he flipped on the lights. It was small, quaint, like a studio apartment. There was a big, old-fashioned four poster bed that dominated the room, along with a fireplace and a small kitchen. It was a beautiful little cabin.

"Will you take these off?" she asked, holding her manacled wrists out to him.

He fished the key out of his pocket and unlocked them. She rubbed her wrists. They were a touch sore from when she'd fought against the cuffs.

Derek reached for her hands, turning them over, inspecting her wrists, and scowling ferociously. He lifted them and then leaned forward, kissing each reddened mark on her wrists.

"I'm sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you," he murmured against her skin. His soft beard tickled her skin.

"Then don't be handcuffing me," she snipped archly, drawing her hands away and crossing her arms over her chest. "Why are we here?"

He paused for a moment to light the fire in the fireplace. She wished he'd talk; the pause was killing her. Once the fire was roaring, he stood, wiped his hands, and then turned to face her.

"You want an explanation, right?"

"That would be uberly good right about now," she said sarcastically.

"It's complicated, but I plan on saying this and not mincing words." He stared at her, and suddenly, the small cabin felt even smaller. "I don't think you were meant for Lynch."

She broke into her usual old defense out of habit. "You never liked Kevin! No matter what—"

"Let me clarify," he said, cutting her off. "I don't think you are meant for _any_ other man. I think you are meant for me."

She glared at him, but inside, her heart was pounding, and she was starting to sweat. Shit! Shit! She wasn't ready. She wasn't—

"I want you," he said, making her gasp instead of respond. He looked directly at her and continued, saying with certainty, "And you want me, too."

Her jaw was gaping like a fish out of water. This was unreal...she couldn't...

"But... but... That is stupid," she blurted out. "We're friends."

"Yes, we are," he answered. "And we love each other."

"Not like you're saying!"

His raised eyebrow said volumes, far more than words could ever say about how much she was lying, and she had the good graces to blush and feel sheepish.

She tossed her hands in the air. "We've been best friends for eight years! This would be really odd—"

"Not if you don't let it become odd," he interrupted. "Don't worry... After the tenth time we screw this weekend, that oddness will slip away."

She swallowed hard as she watched him remove his black leather jacket. There was such stark finality in what he was saying, like he was so damned sure of himself. She wished she felt one ounce that secure.

He unbuttoned his shirt and shucked it. "Like I said in the truck: it's time."

For a moment, she was dazed by the expanse of sexy, sculpted muscle bared to her. "I'm—" She swallowed again. "I'm not your type."

"Let me be the judge of that," he answered.

"This is wrong. It's going to be all wrong," she said nervously, taking a few steps away from him. "Let's not ruin what we have."

She felt like he was consuming all the air in the room. She felt lightheaded and nervous. She felt hunted, pursued, and it was almost too much to bear. Silence filled the little cabin, while Penelope's eyes filled with tears. One pooled and quickly overflowed.

"Penelope," Derek whispered softly. He reached his hand forward and brushed her tear away, an action that he had done a hundred or even a thousand times before. He cupped her cheek and said softly, "Baby. Tell me the truth...what are you afraid of?"

Penelope was trembling as she closed her eyes. So many dual emotions were running through her body. She was ecstatic, and she was frightened at the same time. She could have what she'd always wanted, life with her fairytale prince, her soul mate, her best friend, if she only let it happen. But years of sabotaging romance with him and her own self-esteem issues weighed heavily on her, and try as she might, she couldn't speak.

She felt him tilt her chin up so she had to look at him. Opening her eyes, she was lost in his gaze while he studied her.

"Sweetheart, I'm trying to figure you out," he murmured.

She wiped her tears away and scoffed. "Don't profile me, Derek Morgan."

"Uh uh," he replied. "There's no profiling needed. I think you just need to hear some facts." He reached for her shoulders and held them. "There is nothing more right than us being together. Your voice is my solace, food for my soul, just like mine is food for yours."

"That's just friendship."

He gave a short bark of laughter. "That's love."

"How do you know?"

He shook his head. "Because friendship doesn't make me wanna grab you and put that dirty mouth of yours to some serious work. Friendship isn't what makes me jealous of every man in a fifty mile radius of you. Friendship isn't what makes me hard when we're flirting."

She blinked, both flattered and surprised at the same time. Still, her heart, burned so many times before, tried an evasive maneuver. "It's flirting. It doesn't mean anything."

"It doesn't, does it?" he asked, the corner of his mouth raised with wry humor.

"No."

He chuckled. "So...are you gonna lie to me and tell me I didn't notice your nipples getting hard when we get goin' on the dance floor? That you've never thought of us making good on all of our promises to each other?"

Oh, man! She was sure her face was scarlet. She couldn't say a word; he'd know it wasn't the truth.

"You gonna tell me that if I reached between your legs right now, you wouldn't be wet for me?" he asked, prowling after her as she backed against one of the posts on the bed. "Because that's not what your eyes say, all hot and bothered, or the way your scent is rising, sweet and musky and sexy."

She shook her head, not to deny him, but to clear the sensual fog that was setting. She felt like hot honey was running through her veins, syrupy and slow. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back against the pole, and swallowed hard as he stepped closer to her.

"Damn, girl, admit it..." he murmured gruffly. "What's between us... It's so there, it's physical."

Dear God, he was right about everything, even the scent. A woodsy, spicy, silky scent of warm man filled her nostrils and made her want to rip his clothes off and jump him. They blended, those pheromones, like nothing else. She'd never wanted to jump any other man before. It had always been there, too.

"Listen to my voice. I want you so bad, I'm nearly hoarse with it." He lowered his head to the crook of her neck and kissed the skin there, sucked and licked it like a starving man. He rolled his hips against her, letting her feel every inch of his erection flush against her stomach. "Feel me. Fuck, baby...I need you to touch me..."

Panting, shaking with want, Penelope lowered her hand between their bodies and gripped the solid bar of his cock through his jeans. He was hot—so hot—and hard like marble. She traced him, her fingers sliding up and down the wide bulge pulsing in his pants.

Reaching down with a ragged groan, he reached for both her hands and held them with one of his above her head. The dark, black, delicious eyes filled with savage need pinned her far more than anything physical.

"Don't run from me, sweetheart. Don't push me away. Not now...not again."

That gave her pause for a moment. _Again?_

"We're more than that to each other; we always have been." He leaned forward and kissed her mouth, taking it with a fast, steaming kiss that was over far too soon. "You're mine."

Oh, sweet heavens, she wanted to believe him. More than anything on this gorgeous planet, she wanted to believe him, yet... He was so perfect. So wonderful. Inside and out. How could she possibly be enough?

As she looked into his eyes, she saw a warmth and tenderness—the love she knew he had for her—along with a deeper understanding.

"You've always been mine, and I've always been yours. I could tell you that a million times, but you're not going to believe me."

"I want to," she whispered aloud.

For a second, he sat there, looking at her, and she saw a flicker of relief pass over his face.

"I believe that," he said, "and it's up to me to show you."

With the air burning between them, she whispered softly, "Show me what?"

"Exactly how good we're going to be together." His lips curved into the most devilish smile. "And you have to help me."

She swallowed hard, both excited and nervous. "H-How?"

"By trusting me. By putting yourself in my hands...letting me take care of you...letting me love you like I've always wanted to love you." He was watching her intently with his hooded gaze, nearly palpable in intensity. As if he couldn't bear not touching her more, he reached a finger up and trailed it down the side of her cheek, down her jaw, to just behind her ear to play with the lobe there.

"Can you do that, baby?" he asked softly. "Can you do that for me?"

She closed her eyes as his wandering fingertips drifted down the column of her neck, causing a delicious shiver to roll down her spine.

Slowly, he lowered her hands from above her head. She opened her eyes and watched him step away from her.

He reached a hand out to her. "Now or never, sweetheart."

For once in her life, she didn't overthink things and she didn't let her thoughts derail her. Instead, she did what she should've always done when dealing with Derek Morgan: Follow her heart.

Taking a deep, fortifying breath, Penelope reached forward and placed her hand in his.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Thank you for the reviews, and thank you so much for all that voted for me in the Profiler's Choice awards... I won Best Overall Story for "A Few Drinks Later", Best Characterization of Derek Morgan for "Release" and Best Morgan/Garcia story with "Release"... Okay, I am leaving this one pretty much the same as the coffee shop version, because...well, they're fully clothed...That being said, still...__**Warning: Strong Sexual Content.**__.._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

As Derek enclosed Penelope's small hand in his much bigger one, an electric surge of energy pulsed between them, enough to make her catch her breath. It wasn't a sharp shock, like static, rather a palpable feel of magnetic rightness.

Tension flowed through her veins. This was so new for her. Penelope was a take charge kind of gal, had been the dominant in most of her relationships, and they had been less than satisfying. She'd led Kevin around by his orange and chartreuse checked tie many times, and she was a giving lover. However, in return, orgasms for her had been elusive, brought on by motorized gizmos most of the time. After many frustrated nights, she'd learned to never trust a lover enough to really take care of her.

A thought shot through her mind, one she couldn't stop. Out of bed, Derek always took care of her. She trusted him with her weakness. She was okay showing him her fears and her weak side, and he still cherished her and adored her strengths. Should she show him what she wanted in bed and truly let go?

Or did he already know?

He led her to the side of the large bed. While he walked, she saw the strong muscles of his back rippling, the tattoos that marred his perfect skin nearly dancing in the glow from the firelight. His dress trousers he'd been wearing to the party hugged his delectable bubble butt, dipping just the slightest bit with each rolling glide of his stride. Something about his ass made her want to slap it, squeeze it, grip it when he was thrusting between her thighs...

He turned, and she found herself staring at his really, really impressive package. If his ass was delectable, his bulge was drool-worthy. Thick, prominent, powerful. Her mouth began to water.

She forced herself to drag her eyes back to his.

"What do I do now?" she asked breathlessly, her voice sounding thick and strange to her ears.

He shot her a wicked smile that made her insides liquefy and come pouring out her core. That smile had haunted her dirtiest, most secret dreams for years, and now, those dreams were about to come true.

"There's so much, baby, so _damn_ much, that I want to do to you, it's hard to choose. But first." He placed his hands on her waist and took a seat on the bed. "I want to just touch you."

Before she could take another breath, he lowered his hands to her velvet-covered ass, dragging her forward so that she stood in the vee between his spread legs. To keep her balance, she put her hands on his strong, bare shoulders.

From that position, she was just the slightest bit taller than he was. He was looking at her with lazy, bedroom eyes, and she could feel his shoulders lose the tension under her fingertips as he took a deep breath. He ran his hands over her bottom, up and down her back, exploring and massaging her at the same time. It felt so good to have him stroke her like she was a playful kitten. Her own muscles were loosening, and she felt nearly wobbly on her knees. Her eyelids felt heavy, too, languidly so, and she closed them just so she could focus on the sensations she was experiencing.

"Relaxing?"

His gruff voice, so familiar and so sexy, was soothing to her. She simply nodded and let herself fall further under the spell created by his magic hands.

When he reached her shoulders and her neck, he used his fingertips to ring the little bells on her ears. She opened her eyes and found that he was still watching her, the corner of his mouth up in a slight smirk.

"I'm looking forward to making those bells ring in rhythm," he drawled with an eyebrow wiggle, and from the wash of heat she felt, she knew she was blushing. He chuckled at her, which only made the blushing worse.

"Derek," she whined, squirming and wishing that heat would leave her face. Oh, she hated blushing! It made her feel naive and inexperienced.

"Damn, how I love it... Dirty mind like yours, and you still blush when I'm suggestive," he teased and then let his eyes drift over her body. When his eyes met hers, they were sparking with fire. "I wanna see you color up all over that beautiful pale skin of yours."

A good, sexual tension, so taut, she could pluck it, started rising in her body. Her lips and her throat tingled, nearly aching, and Penelope licked her lips to calm them.

Derek was watching every move she made, focused on her mouth. He threaded his fingers in her hair, stroking her scalp with tickling and arousing touches. "Open that sexy mouth, Baby Girl, and kiss me."

Penelope knew how to kiss. She was happy to have equal footing on something. She leaned forward and began to kiss him like she usually did, her mouth closed, ready to work up into—

"Oh, no. Not like that. Open," he ordered against her lips, "and stick your tongue in my mouth."

A rush of fire flared over her body at the darkly erotic words. It sounded so good, something she wanted to do, so she followed his instructions to the tee.

And oh, sweet mother of God, was she glad she did.

The minute her tongue touched the silky wet interior of his mouth, he cupped her skull in his hands and took over. He consumed her mouth, drawing her tongue deeper, thrusting his into her mouth, making her dizzy and delighted. The heat turned into molten lava in her veins, and a low pulse thrummed in her temples, her neck, and her core.

On and on, he kissed her with hot, urgent pressure, taking and giving, consuming and fostering the passion between them. She reached her arms around the neverending expanse of muscles on his back and clung to him. He tugged her head back, devouring the skin of her neck and below her earlobes before he returned to her mouth and searched every hidden secret of her mouth, her heart, and her soul.

She drank from him, suckling his tongue as he licked deeper. She stepped closer, trying to melt into him, melting into his touch. She was melting—liquid heat was pouring down between her thighs. She needed his touch. Her nipples were raised, her pussy felt swollen and soaking wet, and she was beginning to ache almost painfully. She felt hungry—hungry for his taste, hungry for his cock to fill her. His taste was so sweet, rich and spicy, exotic and erotic…tasty and uniquely Derek. She would never get enough of him, not in a million, billion, zillion years.

He lowered his hands to her back, down to her ass, and she moaned into his mouth. He'd been right about awkwardness not being a factor. She wanted to crawl over him, take him right there, right now. She'd fling aside her soaked tights, unzip his pants, and mount him. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she opened her legs and tried to hitch a knee up on the bed, but her knee slipped.

Derek lifted his head and met her eyes. "My sweet, hot little momma…you hurting? Want me to make it a little better?"

She tried to nod, but her body felt like it was stinging, like it wasn't under her own control. She ached and burned and throbbed with need, and tears of frustrated pleasure-pain filled her eyes.

"Answer me, Penelope," he said gruffly but gently.

"Y-Yes," she moaned.

His eyes glittered with something fierce and primal, along with pleasure. "That's my girl."

Derek slid one of his hands down her thigh, the one she'd tried to climb onto the bed with, and cupped under it. He lifted and maneuvered it so that she was straddling his thigh, and then he gripped his hands on her ass and dragged her upward.

Penelope hissed as the over-sensitzed flesh between her legs made contact with the hard ridge of muscle on his thigh. Before she could make any more noise, he captured her mouth with his again while he guided her in a rocking motion. Sensations sparked through her as he pumped her hips against him. The delicious friction rose as she joined in the movements and rode his thigh shamelessly. She was nearly at a canter, grinding against him. She could feel him flex the muscle of his leg, and the ache grew stronger, harder.

He ripped his mouth away from hers and lowered his hands. He dug his fingers into the soft globes of her ass, squeezing and increasing the pressure. "Come on, baby...come for me."

She was close, so close to the edge of orgasm. He squeezed, separated her flesh, and she could feel the shocks in both of her intimate openings. She moaned pitifully. She was sizzling, on fire. Her entire body was buzzing with need, wanting this so badly. She was so close, yet, she couldn't...

"Come, Penelope," he ordered and then slapped her hard on the ass. It didn't hurt—it only shocked her—but it was enough. The stinging ripple of sensation launched her into a strong, shimmering orgasm, pushing her over that invisible edge.

"Ahhh!" she cried out, shaking hard as she convulsed into sweet, sweet shudders, jerking against his leg, her own thighs squeezing his tight. She was splintering into a million pieces, she couldn't catch her breath, and it was absolutely heavenly.

Derek growled as he pressed her hips down hard on his thigh. It forced more contact with her shocked and sensitized pussy, prolonging her orgasm until she was filled with a blissful peace. Boneless, she collapsed forward, unable to hold herself upright. The pleasure was so strong...so strong...it only made sense she was falling.

"I got you, angel," he said softly, stroking her back, rocking her gently as she came down from the most powerful orgasm of her life. Tears of shock and relief had sprung to her eyes, the orgasm had turned her so inside out. She felt weak and shaky, yet...soooo damn good.

She could feel his warm breath against her pate as he spoke. "Feel better?"

She felt depleted, limp, exhausted, and sated. And she did, indeed, feel better. She didn't even bother to raise her head from his chest when she answered, "Mmm hmmm."

"Good girl," he murmured, kissing the top of her head before giving her butt another softer swat. "Time to stand up."

She raised her eyes and looked at him incredulously. "What?"

"Stand up," he said simply. "Come on...time's a-wasting, and I got plans for that hot little body of yours."

"You have plans," she said, trying to brace her wobbly feet on the ground.

"Of course." He smirked at her as he held her hands to steady her while he removed his leg from between hers. "You didn't think that was it?"

"No," she said, watching as he sat there. There was a big damp spot on the fabric on his thigh where her pussy had been, and she willed herself not to blush as she looked at it.

"Good," he replied, standing up. "Because honey...we've barely even gotten started."


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Thanks so much for the reviews. I tried to tame this down as much as I could from the coffee shop version without losing the essence of them..this being said, **Warning: Strong sexual content**

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**Chapter 5**

Derek meant every single word he said. He wanted so badly to give her the most pleasure she would ever have. In fact, he felt like he was in the fight of his life, his one true shot at happiness, and he wasn't going to blow it.

He hated feeling this way. His heart beat like a sledgehammer in his chest. He'd felt like this before in his life, with her, wanting her with everything inside of him and wishing she wanted him back. But she'd chosen another man, one she'd determined was more suitable for her.

Looking back, maybe Lynch _had_ been more suitable. Derek had been immature, unsure of himself in so many ways. He loved Penelope—he'd always loved her—but he'd made bad choices. He didn't want to involve Penelope in his hurts; he was going to get through them himself and come to her whole. Lynch didn't have the same demons Derek had to face; he hadn't been as scarred as Derek was. Back then, as much as it had pained him, Derek had let her go because he couldn't determine if he was the better man.

He'd done a lot of growing up in those years without her. He'd faced those fears head on—ironically, with Penelope at his side. She wouldn't allow him to hurt alone, no matter how damn hard he tried to martyr himself. His plan to protect her from his past and his fears fizzled and dissipated in the love she'd showered on him. Now, there was no doubt who was the better man...and had been the right man all along. Now, he was forty years old. He was far more mature, less of a hot head. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to go after it, plain and simple.

So, methodically, he'd planned his seduction of the woman he loved...the only one he'd ever loved.

"Hmmm..." he remarked, slowly kissing the side of her neck again. "What should I do next? Unwrap my present?"

As he spoke, it was like his fingers had a mind of their own, working their magic, stroking in teasing circles on her back. He couldn't stop touching her. She was so soft, so lush, the velvet nap tickling his hands as he stroked her. He could feel her shivers beneath his fingertips when he stroked teasingly under the fur-trimmed edges of her adorable little elvish dress.

"I...thought this was for me...this seduction you planned," she said, and then she gasped and tipped her head back, and he nipped at the side of her neck in approval.

"It is," he growled as he licked the tasty skin of her neck, sweet and peachy. She tasted like sugary pears, dipped in honey, and smelled just as evoking. The scent of her arousal, wet on his thigh, tantalized him and made his mouth water, hungry for the source. He wanted to taste her everywhere.

"Then you should take your pants off," she said, her fingers playing with the skin on his biceps. "I should be the one getting the presents."

"Oh, honey," he murmured darkly, a light chuckle bubbling in him. "How soon you forget..."

Her immediate blush made him laugh, and she scowled back in response.

"I didn't forget. I just...I..." she stammered. "This is not fair. I don't know what to do."

He was keen to every detail she was giving, and he sensed her discomfiture. It tugged at his heart. This wasn't what he wanted, but his angel Penelope, the love of his life, was also a control freak of the highest nature. She had to bond to him, to learn to let go.

He cupped her chin in his hand and made her look at him. "Just trust me."

Her answering pout was adorable. "I want to, but..." She blew the air out, and her lips buzzed in a raspberry.

"This is all about you. You trusting me, letting me take care of you..." He took a deep breath. There was nothing more important to him at this moment. "Woman, I would never misplace that trust."

He traced that full bottom lip of hers with his thumb, the plush feeling making his body throb. He was painfully swollen, angrilly erect, but this wasn't about him. This was her—her trust...her pleasure.

"D-Derek," she whispered, her voice throaty and thick. "You...you really don't have to prove anything. Already, you've given me more than I've ever had from any lover."

He arched his brows in surprise at her. "Seriously?"

Her face fell, but she nodded and answered honestly, "Seriously."

Derek watched her as anger rose inside of him at the thoughtlessness of her other lovers. She'd obviously been with morons, no matter how many letters they had after their names. She was a goddess, and any man that didn't see that was a fucking moron. She deserved to be worshiped.

He watched, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes darkened with passion...yet he could see that bit of insecurity flickering behind. No doubt those other men who didn't treat her right had caused that self-doubt.

He needed to remedy that immediately.

"Sweetheart, yes, I do," he said seriously.

She frowned. "What?"

"Have something to prove," he said, lowering his hands and dropping to his knees in front of her. "Spread your legs, P."

Her eyes widened, and her cheeks flared a fabulous scarlet that nearly matched the velvet red of her dress. "Derek, you don't have to do that."

"I want to."

And sweet Christ, he did. The sweet and tangy scent of her made him want to take a bite of her, drink her down, eat her like she was his last meal. Derek loved kissing, all sorts of kisses, all over the body. He loved oral sex...loved to get it, loved even more to reciprocate it.

Her blush remained. "I didn't shower, and—"

Derek shot her a look. "Woman, I am going to go down on you for what could be hours, and then, when I am damn good and ready, I am going to make love to you until you can't walk straight," he remarked in a tone that meant no arguing. "Open your legs."

With a deep breath and an unsure look on her beautiful face, Penelope spread her legs.

Reaching up under her skirt, Derek looped his fingers in the elastic of her tights and slid them down her legs. The cool softness of her skin brushing against his hot hands as he exposed her legs to the air was ticklish and tantalizing. Her scent, hot and clean and spicy, wafted to his nostril and made his stomach growl. He pulled off one little boot and then the other before divesting her completely of the pantyhose.

"Now wider," he commanded with a wink, pinching her soft and bare ass. God, he wanted to kiss that ass... lick it... fuck it.

The shock of it made her jump and then cover her bare posterior with her hands.

"Don't tense up on me," he ordered from at her feet, "and don't keep me waiting."

She worried her bottom lip between her pearly white teeth he wanted to feel on his skin. "Sorry...I'm a little nervous. I...haven't had this very often."

Again, a flash of anger rose at the men who had hurt her. Making her shower instead of cherishing her spicy natural scent, acting like they were doing her a favor by going down on her. It made him furious at how they'd marred her esteem. But he couldn't let the anger get to him. He had to focus on Penelope and her pleasure.

He stroked her legs, up and down, in a soothing motion. "Baby...I would never let anything bad happen to you." He leaned forward and kissed her inner thigh. "You're the most precious thing in the world to me. Besides," he added with a smirk, "it's in your best interests to obey me."

Although her bottom lip was still between her teeth, she raised a challenging brow. "Really."

"Yes, my little controller. I got three reasons." He looked up at her, and he didn't hide the obvious want he had for her. He was ready to devour her, and he was going to very, very soon.

He focused on her slender ankles and started drawing circles on them with his fingertips. He clasped them in his grasp, thinking about how nice it was going to be someday to put them in soft restraints...

"Number one is simply because I asked you to. I think you like pleasing me as much as I like pleasing you." This time, he arched a brow at her. "Am I wrong?"

She shook her head. "No."

"No, Derek," he instructed gently. "Say it. Say my name."

"No, Derek," she replied, and he felt the answering throb in his groin.

"Good girl. Number two: I have always had your best interests at heart," he said, interrupting her and then leaning forward to kiss and lick from her knee to her inner thigh. "You know that's true, don't you, angel?"

Penelope's legs were shaking. "Yes, Derek."

He couldn't control his answering smile. She was a very, very fast learner, and he couldn't wait to reward her...and himself. She believed in him, believed in his love, which bound them together even more than ever before.

"Lastly," he murmured huskily, his breath blowing on the curls of her mound. He took a deep breath, and his hands clenched her bottom in eagerness. "Because I want you more than any man has ever wanted a woman."

She stared down at him, her pupils dilated, her breath coming heavy. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her hair was a gorgeous disarray, and her thighs were flushed and aroused.

"Do you agree with me?" he asked, pushing her trust a step further, not forcing, but fortifying it.

She nodded.

He cocked his head and looked up at her. "What was that? I didn't catch that, angel."

"Y-Yes," she stammered.

"Yes what?" he queried, an innocent look on his face. He placed a kiss directly on her, getting just a hint of her salty essence, and then looked back up at her. "I can't continue until you tell me, sweetheart."

"Yes, _Hot Stuff_," she said, looking down at him, a smirk of her own on her face.

He smirked back wickedly at her. "That works. Now open up, and show me what you got."

He touched her and she shuddered and arched her hips toward him, obviously trying to find some relief for the tension he was building. That was a good sign...a very, very good sign.

"No, no," he whispered, holding her hip with one of his hands. "Stay still, please."

She whimpered as he leaned forward, breathing deeply as his mouth watered in anticipation. Then, unable to hold back any more, he tasted her.

"Oh...oh...oh..." she moaned and panted as he licked over and over again.

_Fuck, she was delicious_, Derek thought. He could tell that she was trying to hold still, but the need to move was far greater. She started arching her hips, trying to make him move his quicksilver, elusive tongue. She was moaning in desperation, loudly.

"Penelope," he murmured. "Be still."

"I..I can't!" she cried out.

"Yes, you can," he cajoled. He handed her the skirt he was holding up. "Here, hold this...I'll help."

A few more tastes, and she came apart. Derek smiled as she shuddered and shook. He was right when he'd nicknamed her Sweetness.

Derek watched as she nearly melted once she was done. She slumped, reaching for the bed in a desperate attempt to stay upright.

"Okay, little girl," he said, standing up and scooping her into his arms. "Ding ding... Round three is just about to start..."


	6. Chapter 6

_AN: Thank you so much for reviews. Again...this is the naughty story (Even naughtier on TWCS), so **Warning: Strong Sexual Content**_

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**Chapter 6**

As Penelope lay in Derek's arms, cradled and carried, a thousand things ran through her head: _Oh, my stars, is this really happening?; I feel uberly good...and uberly tired!; Holy cow, he is so strong—ooh, watch your step, there! _But the one thought, the one that resonated with over and over, was: _This is right. This is soooo right._

She was beyond worrying about his intentions. This much pleasure could not be wrong in any way, shape, or form. No, siree. Enough doubt. She was going to go for it. She was following his commands, and her heart and her mind, from now on. The look on his face, full of love and caring and sure passion, was undeniable. To question it would be dead wrong.

A few more confident strides, and Derek placed her on the bed. This time, he stood between her knees, towering over her.

"Unwrap the rest of your present, sweetheart," he ordered, standing with his arms spread and his trousers button just above her hands.

She didn't plan on just unzipping in a _wham, bam, thank you, ma'am_ fashion. She was going to enjoy herself, make this present last... A thrill ran through her. This was going to be fun!

Licking her lips with anticipation, she reached her hands to his pants and stroked him through the fabric. She ran her fingertips over his erection. She smiled up at him as her fingers continued their journey.

"Oh, my, Hot Stuff," she said with a seductive grin. "This is the gift that keeps on giving."

He rumbled with laughter before it was interrupted by his own hiss as she squeezed him.

Penelope had planned on teasing him more, but she wanted to see and feel him unencumbered by clothing. She could feel the heat through the fabric, and she knew that would be magnified exponentially without that barrier.

She flicked the button open on his pants. She found the small silver tab of his zipper, and he sucked in his breath as she drew it down over the straining bulge.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked, flashing her eyes up at his.

"Hell, no," Derek growled. He wasn't looking at her eyes. His gaze was flickering over her hands, how they touched and moved over his cock. His handsome face was set, his dark eyes even darker with passion.

Not waiting a second longer, she pulled his dark charcoal dress pants down, revealing his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs.

"Whoa, angelfish," she said with a breathy tone.

He reached for her hand and gave her a dark look that brooked no argument. "Don't tease, sweetheart."

She followed his command and reached for the edge of his boxers and pulled them down.

She reached up and wrapped her fingers around him. His erection was a shade or two darker than his normal mocha-hued skin and was yet again something perfect about him. She couldn't get her fingers around him, he was so thick. As she rubbed him up and down, she couldn't help but smile.

"What is that devilish smile for?" he asked, his voice a low, vibrant growl.

"I was thinking this is the only thing that is fat on you," she answered honestly, enjoying the feel of that incredible girth. "Gorgeous, like the rest of you."

"Thank you, sweetheart," he answered in his gravelly tone.

Penelope ran her thumb over the top, circling and touching. Her body ached and stung with need as she brought her hand to her mouth and sucked her thumb. His taste was delicious; she wanted to go for the source. She leaned forward, ready to take him into her mouth.

"Damn, girl... Damn," he groaned as he reached her shoulders and drew her away from him.

She looked up at him in confusion.

He smiled down at her. "Baby, you do that, and this is over too soon. This is about you and your pleasure."

"Derek," she said, standing up and then kneeling between his legs. "This _does_ please me."

Before he could say another word, she took him into her mouth.

"Christ," he muttered. Almost as soon as that had begun, he pulled her off him and reached for her hands, pulling her to her feet. "Enough, minx."

She licked her lips and looked between his legs. He was so delicious, she wanted...

"Derek, let me."

"No," he argued. Shucking his pants and boxers, he took another few steps back from her. "Undress."

"But I—"

"Take it off, Penelope," he ordered brusquely. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her, drawing his gaze from head to toe. "I want to see you strip."

He was so gorgeous, standing there, perfect and naked and delicious. How could she compare? But she only hesitated a second. He wanted this, badly, and she was going to give it to him.

Drawing her hands behind her, she unbuttoned the top button of her dress. It was a stretchy velvet she could remove easily. She glanced down and then back at him for a moment.

Derek's eyes were watching every movement of her body. His erection was raging, his expression dark and hot. Normally, Penelope didn't feel like a _femme fatale_, but the way that he was looking at her, with such obvious hunger, she couldn't help but feel incredible. She dipped the fabric off first one shoulder and then the other, peeling it down from her arms like a dancer in a burlesque show.

"Oh, yeah," Derek growled, moving his hands down to the edge of the table. His knuckles were white, as he gripped it like he had to hold himself back.

Penelope was flushing with excitement. She moved the upper part of her dress to her waist. Her nipples were sticking up under the lace fabric of her bra, and Derek let out a nearly painful-sounding male groan of appreciation.

"Holy shit, those tits..." His voice was rough, his eyes were planted on her chest, and he was gripping himself with his hand.

With a surge of bravery, Penelope shoved her dress to the floor and then reached behind her to unlatch and toss her bra. When she freed her breasts from their confines, both she and Derek gasped. Their eyes met, and soon, they took the steps needed to be in each other's arms.

Derek's mouth took hers with hungry savagery. He twisted his lips on hers, commanded her mouth. She moaned, and he claimed her mouth even further, drawing her up and against him. He rolled his hips, letting her feel against her stomach every long and glorious inch he was going to give her.

"I want you," he guttered to her, licking her neck, her collarbone. "Damn, baby... You're mine."

"I'm yours," she replied as he lifted her in his arms.

He carried her to the bed and laid her down, kissing her passionately as he climbed in and moved on top of her. His kisses were dark and needy, and she found herself drifting under his spell. She saw stars, fireworks, and a deep and luscious swirl of sensuous fog swept over her. He kissed her, stabbing his tongue deeper, searching her mouth. She arched against him, opened, welcomed him.

Derek touched every part of her. He kissed her sides, under her arms, her navel. He nuzzled between her breasts, saying a benediction as he cupped his hands and buried his face in her scented vale. He licked in between and then circled a nipple before drawing the straining peak into his mouth.

Penelope gasped and gripped his head in her hands, making him come closer to her, making him consume more. She whimpered as the pulsing heartbeat in her body grew. Everywhere throbbed with sensual need. He rose above her on one arm, while the other played between her legs with her copious moisture.

"You want me, Baby Girl?" he growled, his eyes nearly black with desire.

"Yes," she hissed, opening her legs and arching up against him with shameless need.

"Then take me, baby," he breathed and started pressing into her.

His entry was slow, methodical, inch by inch, filling and overfilling her. She'd been with men before, but none that were anywhere near as large as he was. She knew it sounded cliché, but it was the truth. She licked her lips and braced as she felt the slight sting while her body stretched to accommodate him.

As he rested inside her, she could feel a pulse beat, and she didn't know if it was him or her. It was a perfect, thrumming beat, in sync, in time with one another. She'd never experienced anything like that before. It made her feel so close, closer to him than she'd ever been.

Before she could comment, he withdrew, the sexual friction making her gasp and moan, and then he slid back inside of her, gripping her hips. His weight on top of her felt heavenly, and the rough skin of his chest chafed her nipples. On and on, he plunged and retreated, his dark eyes holding hers as he thrust repeatedly.

"Oh, God!" she cried out as her body was sensually scorched where he pressed into her. It felt so good, filling her so completely.

He chuckled darkly. "It's just me, sweetheart," he replied. "Just the man who loves you..."

"Derek," she panted, licked her lips, "I...Oh, frack, angelfish..."

She knew she was babbling, but she couldn't help herself. This...this was otherworldly. Apparently, Derek felt the same way.

"Damn, baby, you feel so good," he rasped, arching, driving. "So fucking tight..."

Penelope looped her legs and her arms around him, holding him to her in a full-body hug and caress. She held him as closely as she could, rising to meet his thrusts, and then he flipped, putting her on top of him.

"Ride me, Penelope," he ordered, levering her upwards and ghosting his hands down her sides to her waist.

In that position, Penelope sunk even deeper, the root of his cock brushing against the underside of her clit. She bucked up and down, and he guided her. His hands on her hips helped her get a rhythm that was smooth and tantalizing.

"Oh, Derek," she moaned as he drew his hands up her chest, tugging her nipples in time with her downward thrusts.

"Yeah, baby...let go," he said, his dark eyes watching her breasts as they bounced. "Come for me."

Penelope rode hard and fast, coming close to the edge, her hips grinding and circling for her release. Her eyes were closed, and she gasped for breath. Derek reached up between their bodies and touched her intimately, and she flew over the edge, crying in release.

As fast as lightening, Derek flipped her over, his thrusts becoming piston fast. He was deep—so deep—and her orgasm was never ending. She keened under him as he reached down, lifted her hands, and held them over her head, pounding and driving toward his completion. She was under his complete control; she'd never felt like that before in her life: so possessed, so complete.

"Say my name, Penelope. Say it..." he ordered, something desperate in his tone that made her heart ache. "Say you need me."

"Yes, Derek!" she screamed. God, it was so true. She'd never needed a man like she needed him...in every single way. Shivers of delight racked her as he drove on and on as she came yet again.

"Oh, baby! Penelope..." Derek gripped her hips hard, driving into her, and then he held still, panting. She felt his release throb inside her as he finally joined her in completion.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, and for reading it over at TWCS, too. I won second place in the contest on FB, so I am so happy! We have reached the end of another story. I am hoping to be back with another story before New Years (Especially with the awesome fodder we got Wednesday on CM-Whoo baby!), but life is kind of hectic right now. I will for sure be back with my next big thing...another epic coming your way. Merry Christmas! With Love, Kricket

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**Chapter 7**

Penelope had never felt so wonderful in her life. Derek was still on top of her, his warm body like the most decadent comforter she'd ever had. She could stay like that forever, in blissful communion, their bodies locked intimately and their hearts beating in time. Someday, they would have to return to work, and with that, the real world, but until then...this would be optimal.

Of course, as with all good things, this, too, had to come to an end. Derek braced himself on his forearms and looked down at her. "You okay?"

She reached for him, trying to pull him down. "I'm perfect."

Derek tried to roll off her, but she held on. She knew it was desperate, but she just wasn't ready to let go.

"Baby Girl," he said with a chuckle. "I have to be squishing you."

"No," she half-pleaded, half-ordered. "Stay."

"Penelope," he said, rising up more. Concern for her was written clearly in his honey brown eyes."Sweetheart...what's wrong?"

Those eyes held hers, eyes that had supported and cared for her forever, and she couldn't lie to him. "I don't... I don't want this to end."

With those words, she gave birth to the biggest fear she had inside of her. That this was just a one-time thing—or even worse, a few times thing before he grew bored with her and moved on to Gymnast Barbie, the underwear model. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to hold back the moisture she could feel brewing in her eyes.

"Angel...this doesn't have to end," he said. He reached up to reverently trace the side of her face. "I love you. I want this to last."

"I love you," she said, "and I want it to last, too..."

Derek's face fell a little, and he prodded, "But...?"

"But we both know I'm not your usual type, and—"

"Fuck that."

"Excuse me?" she squeaked.

"You heard me." He jumped off the bed and ran a hand over his face. "I just made love to you with everything I had in my soul. Do you disagree with me?"

Nudity in their relationship was _waaaaay_ too new, and she found herself gaping at his nude body. Good God, he was luscious. All lean, sculpted muscle and smooth, dark skin. Even his dangly bits, which usually looked kind of funny on most naked guys, flopping around, were gorgeous and nearly majestic.

"N-No," she said, scrambling to sit up and to get her mind out of the gutter.

"Say it," he snapped, shooting her a look that brooked no argument. "The right way."

For a second, she couldn't quite recall...and then she could feel her cheeks heating as she remembered that particular instruction to the tee. Ooh, he was a demanding sort. Hot as hell, but still demanding.

"No, Derek."

Watching his handsome, naked body prowling back and forth with ire and frustration, she felt terrible for making him stressed. He stopped his pacing and turned back to her.

"I am going to say this once, and I expect you to believe me because I have never lied to you." He braced his hands by her hips and looked her straight in the eyes. "I adore the ground you walk on. I have for eight years. I want to be with you—only you—and I want you to want me, too."

Her heart ached at his words. Sometimes, orders were harder to follow.

"I do believe you," she said softly. "I just don't always believe in me."

He frowned for a moment. "What do you mean by that?"

She sighed heavily. "Derek, look at you. You're beautiful. You're perfection. You're everything a woman could want."

"No, I'm not," he said swiftly. "There's a lot about me that sure as hell ain't perfect. Sure, I got a hard-earned six pack, but I'm not as suave as Rossi, as level-headed as Hotch, or as smart as Reid."

"You are, too, perfect. And no one is as smart as Reid," Penelope argued.

He smiled softly at her defense of him and took a seat on the edge of the bed. "Thanks, honey. But not everyone is into guys like me. You know that." He paused and then said softly, "I wasn't your first choice."

"When...?" Her eyes widened, and she thought about when he'd said _Again._

Was he talking about years ago, when he'd first told her he loved her? She didn't think...she hadn't thought...

_Oh, God_... That was five years ago...and she was worried about being a flash in the pan to him? She'd been an insecure moron, even back then, and she was done being insecure about his love. No more wasting time.

Suddenly, she scrambled out from under the covers and knelt next to him on the bed, hugging him tightly.

"Oh, Derek, I love you so much!" she said, tears springing to her eyes as she plastered kisses to his neck, his head, his shoulders...wherever she could reach.

"Baby," he said, chuckling. "What—"

"You were never second choice!" she cried, still kissing him. "It hurts me to hear you say that. It wasn't you! It was me. I was just scared."

His shocked face turned into a brilliant smile as he cooed to her, "Penelope...sweetheart..."

"You were a god, your pursuits were legendary," she rambled on, "and I was just a nerdy girl. I didn't think you could be, that you were interested really in—"

He pulled her into his lap and began to kiss her again, hard and deep, taking control. When he raised his mouth, she was breathless.

"Never badmouth yourself," he said seriously. "You're an angel—my Christmas Angel—and I am the luckiest man alive that you love me, too."

His words reverberated through her, and like the Grinch, her heart grew three sizes that day, until her love overflowed and warmed her soul hotter than the glowing fireplace in the room.

"Derek," she whispered, smiling at him with all the love she felt in her heart. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said, cupping the side of her face with his palm. "Merry Christmas, Baby Girl."

"Merry Christmas, Hot Stuff," she answered. She may not always believe in herself as much as she should, but she believed in Christmas. She looped her arms around his neck as he lowered his head, sealing this, the greatest present she'd ever received, with a kiss.


End file.
